It's No Good
by Candaru
Summary: The Professor has a bad habit of neglecting sleep in favor of research. Rosa the cleaning lady has noticed this on too many occasions, and wishes there was something that could be done. Luckily for her, children can be quite influential. (Layton/Luke fluff. Oneshot, genshipping [no romance], T for safety.)


(A/N: The first bit before the break is a cutscene from Last Specter, and everything after takes place after that game. I don't know exactly where in the timeline, you choose. XD And it's really sad that I even have to say this, but as a reminder, this is Genshipping. DO NOT TAKE THIS ROMANTICALLY.)

* * *

"Professor? Oh, Professor!"

The knob clicked as Rosa cheerfully opened the door to one of Gressenheller's offices, a piece of paper in her hand.

"Professor, a letter just came for— Oh!" The last exclamation was said in a disdainful tone as she noticed the figure lying on the couch. She fanned herself with the letter in concern as the man pushed himself up slowly, waking out of his daze. The coat he'd been using as a blanket fell into his lap as he sat up. Rosa walked over to him, lips pursed slightly.

"Thank you, Rosa," the Professor stated warmly, taking the letter from her hand. He yawned as she walked over to the sink where a teapot and several cups sat.

"Sounds like someone was up researching all night… _again,"_ she accused. Pouring spoonfuls of the boxed tea into the pot, she remarked, "It's no wonder the other professors are so intimidated by you."

"Oh, they just think that I'm some young upstart," he replied nonchalantly, sitting down at his desk.

"You work too hard, Professor. It's no good!" Rosa exclaimed. She stole a quick glance over at the esteemed teacher, who was eagerly opening up his letter. He'd only just woken up from a probably very short bout of sleep and was already back at work.

"By the way," she remembered, pouring the tea from the pot into a small china cup, "Dean Delmona came by and said he needed to speak to you, and that he'll be over later today. I don't know why he had to tell _me_ that, he could've just come by later if you ask me and it would've saved him the trip!"

"Rosa, I'm going out," the Professor suddenly announced, seeming not to have heard her. He slung his coat on quickly as he walked right past the tray of tea.

"Eh?!" Rosa exclaimed in shock.

"Oh!" Realizing his error, the man quickly took several brisk steps backwards, picking up the teacup and sipping the hot tea gratefully. "Thank you, Rosa." Then he jogged out the door.

Rosa sighed to herself as he left. "I hope he remembers to eat something," she muttered to herself, without much confidence that he would. In the past few months she'd gotten to know him, she'd decided that Professor Layton was both one of the kindest and most problematic gentlemen she'd ever met. He was always courteous and didn't speak down to her as if being a cleaning maid made her less intelligent (some of the less savory professors at the school had that habit), but his office was almost _never_ empty and he had neglected sleep on more than one occasion, even when he had to teach class in the morning. And with all that researching and the constant shuffle of books and artifacts and papers to grade, the office was a mess. It was just no good. Speaking of which…

Rosa sighed as she surveyed the state of the little study. Well, it wasn't going to clean itself. She only hoped that something would whip its owner into shape soon. Like when Dean Delmona's granddaughter came to visit, and the Dean suddenly took great care in his appearance and puzzle-solving skills. Rosa chuckled thinking of the many times she'd seen him fretting about the hall trying to come up with an answer to a puzzle his beloved grandchild had presented to him— in fact, she was pretty sure she'd spotted Layton slipping him the answer once. That was quite an entertaining scene to watch.

Now if only there were someone that motivated the Professor like that…

* * *

 _Fascinating… to think that so many relics could remain completely unharmed for so many years, petrified in the very lava that destroyed their surroundings and made them relics in the first place… One has to wonder how some of these materials even withstood the heat._

Layton sat silently at his desk, scrutinizing one of several new archeological finds which he'd been granted the honor to appraise. The mud-brown pot was miraculously completely intact, as were several of the other smaller relics on the table. Each was carefully wrapped in a protective layer and lay in a box at the Professor's feet, ready to be analyzed. The only noise in the room was the quiet shuffling of papers, and every once and a while, a tiny yawn.

"Professah, should these letters go in the personal or work-related pile?" a boy's voice asked, breaking the silence. Luke held up a stack of letters, which Layton turned to glance at.

"Those are personal. Thank you, Luke."

Luke nodded and walked slowly across the room, placing the letters in a small box on the bookshelf.

 _Now, if I could just find out what these symbols mean— they look too similar to the inscriptions on the tomb slabs to just be meaningless, but the language isn't one I recognize… perhaps I should cross-reference these against the other languages in the general area where these were found._

"Luke, would you grab me the book of tongues in the midwestern area of the southern hemisphere? It's the orange volume of the series." The Professor continued to analyze the pot as he waited for the book, until he noticed he hadn't gotten an answer. "Luke?"

The boy, who had been sitting on the floor in what looked like an uncomfortable manner, jerked his head up with a start. "Oh! S-sorry, Professah! The orange book, got it, right away." He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, scanning it for the tome. His movements were slow and imprecise. Layton frowned.

"What time is it?" he wondered out loud, and turned around to check the timepiece on the center desk. "Oh dear." He frowned. "My apologies, Luke, I didn't realize it was so late."

"That's all right. I'm with you until tomorrow, remember?" the boy asked, stifling a yawn. "You don't have to worry about getting me home in time." He spotted a heavy orange book on the shelf and lifted it with a grunt, bringing it over to the Professor.

"Yes, but that is not what I was referring to," Layton replied, setting down his relic for a moment. "It's well past your bedtime, you must get some sleep. You can sleep on the couch there."

"No, I'm not tired!" Luke exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. He must've realized the Professor wasn't nearly that dense, so he quickly added, "And even if I _was_ tired, I wouldn't sleep yet."

"Why not, my boy?" Layton asked with a frown. "I did warn you that we may be here all night, yes?"

"Uh-huh," Luke said proudly, "and I'm ready to stay up all night. I'm here to help, after all!"

"And you've been a great help," Layton reassured him. "Those cabinets have never been so clean." He chuckled a little, gesturing to Luke's dusting supplies in the corner.

"Well, that's only natural. After all, I _am_ your number one assistant!" Luke exclaimed, puffing up his chest. Layton suppressed a smile at that.

"Well, even assistants need their rest. I'll try to finish this up quickly, but get some sleep while I do." He gestured to the couch and turned back to his work.

 _Hmm… let's start by comparing this to Azran. The symbols seem to have the same connected structure, but if this is an icon-based language instead of a phonetic-based one then the connections would have an entirely different meaning…_

Layton's thoughts were interrupted by a heavy _clunk_ behind him. He turned around again and frowned. "Luke, what are you doing?"

"Trying to move this trophy back where it belongs," Luke grunted, picking up the gold object and struggling with it all the way to the table. "Sorry if I'm being loud. I'll do something quieter after I put this back."

"Luke, I told you to go to bed," Layton said, his eyebrows creasing in worry. It wasn't like Luke to disobey him— well, unless he told him to stay somewhere safe while confronting a monster; then he _always_ disobeyed him. But in matters like this, never.

Luke sighed and folded his arms with a mixed expression. "But I _can't."_

"Oh? Are you having trouble falling asleep?" Layton asked, teasing but secretly concerned. "You seem plenty tired to me. Perhaps once you lie down you'll find it's not so hard."

Luke folded his arms in frustration. "No, no, not _that._ I mean I can't go to sleep before you do. You're my host."

Layton blinked as he tried to understand what the boy was saying.

"Remember? 'A gentleman never retires before his host,'" Luke said matter-of-factly. Then it sunk in.

Oh.

 _Oh._

"Luke, that's— no, that doesn't apply here," Layton laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping through his voice.

"Of course it does," Luke replied unwaveringly. "If I want to be a true gentleman, that means treating _everybody_ like a gentleman, including you. And right now you're my host. So I can't go to sleep until you do."

 _…Um._

 _How do I respond to that?_

Suddenly, Layton found himself at a loss for words, which was a very rare occurrence for him. He stared helplessly at Luke's determined face, so full of pride and so eager to do the right thing and…

 _He NEEDS to sleep. He's far too young to be staying up late. I've already let him work longer than I should have._

 _But I can't tell him to go against my word. I—_ ** _I_** _taught him that, he trusts in me, I can't let him down… besides, it's true. If we were at another person's residence I would hope he would do the same thing out of consideration._

 _But he needs his rest, he's a growing boy… perhaps I should just head home now? No, that's not an option, I'm nowhere near finished with my work. Besides, I can't leave these valuable artifacts unattended, that would be just be begging for trouble. I promised to keep them safe until I return them, but I don't think I can take them all home with me…_

 _Still, Luke refuses to sleep here while I work, so what choice do I have? Argh…_

Deep down, Layton knew that he himself probably needed sleep, as well. He knew it wasn't healthy to pull all-nighters as frequently as he did, but… but there was always just so much to do, and so many fascinating things to research, and there was always one more goal just within his reach, and—

"Professah?"

Layton flinched, Luke's voice shaking him out of his silent battle with himself. The self-proclaimed assistant blinked at him with huge, trusting eyes. Something inside Layton's stomach flipped unexpectedly at the thought of doing anything to harm the child.

 _I— I don't want him to pick up my habits. Especially not this young._

 _In just this one thing… I don't want him to turn out like me._

Quietly, the Professor got up. Luke cocked his head curiously as Layton started walking away from his desk, taking off his coat as he did so. Silently, he lied down on his side atop the couch and patted the empty space next to him. Luke looked startled and hesitated, but then followed, taking off his blue cap and placing it on the desk next to the timepiece.

He climbed up on the couch and curled up against the Professor's chest, his messy hair falling just under the older man's chin. The couch wasn't really built for two people— admittedly, it wasn't really built to be used as a regular bed at all— and Layton felt himself shift onto his back from force of habit to fit better. But Luke didn't protest, his small body still curled up snugly on his teacher, so Layton pulled his coat down from the top of the couch and draped it over the both of them as a blanket, resolving to wake early to finish his work in the morning and conveniently ignoring the fact that he wasn't going anywhere while this tiny child was sleeping on him. This tiny child… who was so hard-working… and trusting… and warm… and…

 _I'll deal with work tomorrow,_ he thought as his eyelids tugged downward. He hadn't realized quite how tired _he_ was, and in mere moments he felt himself drifting off alongside his apprentice.

* * *

"Top of the morning! Early shift today?"

"Yes indeed, sir!"

Rosa greeted the passing teachers kindly as she made her way across Gressenheller. The campus was mostly deserted, as it was still earlier than most people cared to come in, but a few personnel were wandering the halls or rushing to their classrooms to finish projects before due dates. The mix of lazy tranquility and last-minute franticness was a very good representation of the overall college atmosphere.

Yawning, Rosa unlocked the green door, which was bathed in the early morning light. Peeking in, she saw the by-now familiar sight of a black coat covering a figure on the couch. She sighed internally and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly she noticed that the scene was… off. A small blue cap was lying on the table, and the bundle underneath the blanket was a good deal larger than it usually was. After the second glance, Rosa quickly processed the situation. Smiling to herself, she creeped back out and closed the door as quietly as she could, only a gentle _click_ in the air. The Professor was probably going to be asleep for quite some time. She'd come back later— she had other rooms she could clean first. Which reminded her, she had to visit Dean Delmona. His granddaughter would be dropping by today and he'd been fretting over making a good impression, even asking Rosa if she would "make sure his attire was suitable for company" when she came over to clean.

It was funny how much adults pretended children needed them, when from what Rosa had seen in most people's lives, it was really the other way around.

Funny… but good.

Very good.

* * *

(A/N: Rosa is such a good character, guys. She deserves more love. Also, I haven't played/watched... MOST of the games yet, so please try to avoid spoilers in the reviews XP)


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